


The Art of Beginning Again

by ingberry



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexuality, Healing, M/M, Painting, Past Arthur/Mithian, Sexual Inexperience
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-02-23 17:03:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13194606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ingberry/pseuds/ingberry
Summary: Arthur is sure he's going to hate Paint Night, and he definitely doesn't expect to meet anyone interesting. When Merlin starts flirting with him, Arthur's lack of experience with guys makes him hesitate, but something keeps bringing him back.





	The Art of Beginning Again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polomonkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polomonkey/gifts).



> Dear Polomonkey - It's been a pleasure to write for you! At one point in time I basically wanted to write all of your prompts, but eventually settled on your first one. Though my muse didn't quite co-operate with them being colleagues, so I ended up with a slightly different scenario instead! I hope you like it ♥
> 
> The idea of Paint Night is modelled after an actual event called Paint Nite (maybe available somewhere near you if you live in the US or Canada!)
> 
> Thank you to my trusty beta and sounding board.

“Is that a cat?” Elena twisted a piece of hair around her finger as she leaned into Arthur’s space. 

“A cat? How’s this a cat?”

She pointed with the back end of her brush. “There’s the tail! It’s all bushy. And I think those are the ears?”

Arthur batted her hand away and dipped into what was left of his black paint. “How is there a cat in mine if we’re painting the same thing?” 

“Artistic licence?” 

He snorted. “Mind your own painting.”

“Hey, I’ll put a cat in mine if that’ll make you feel better?” 

He ignored her and continued to add little reflections in the puddles on the pavement. 

Arthur had sworn he’d hate going to Paint Night. It was such an Elena-ish activity, and while he loved Elena with her bottomless well of energy and creativity, it didn’t really seem like something he’d want to do on a Friday night. 

“But it’s in a pub!” she’d said, eyes still bright with the conviction of a good idea. 

It was in a pub, but that didn’t make Arthur any more inclined to sit down with a bunch of strangers to paint. He hadn’t given in until Elena (quite rudely) pointed out that he’d spent the past four Fridays at home skipping between BBC One and Channel 4 all evening.

He looked over at the painting the host had set down on an easel in front of their long table. The scene was a London street in the rain, a red phone booth at the forefront. Arthur had yet to tackle the phone booth. It seemed beyond his capabilities, especially because his attempt at buildings reflected in the puddles apparently looked like cats. 

“Another one?” Elena asked and held up her empty glass. 

Arthur nodded. “Cheers.” 

As Elena slipped off towards the bar, Arthur snuck a look at the painting of the woman next to him. She’d gone rogue. The phone booth looked like the host’s original, but the day surrounding it had turned into a golden sunset and string lights hung between the street lights. He rather felt that was cheating. 

She looked up and smiled when she saw him looking. “Didn’t quite feel like rain today. How are you coming along, love?” 

He leaned back in invitation and she peered over at his painting. It was a carbon copy of the original, so far, except much, much worse. Seemed a bit stupid next to the older woman’s free interpretation. 

“Oh, those clouds look lovely,” she said. “Very ominous.”

Strangely, the compliment made him feel much better than it should.

“Thanks.” He pressed a little more black onto his puddles. “I like your lights.”

“—see, here. I told you,” Elena said as she sat back at the table, gripping two pints of beer in one hand with difficulty, and her phone in the other. “Say hi, Arthur.” The camera was pointed towards him and he groaned, pushing it away.

“Gwaine didn’t believe I got you out of the house.”

“Fuck off,” Arthur said in a light voice.

“Is that a paint brush?” Gwaine asked and Arthur immediately turned to glare.

“Elena.”

“Sorry, sorry. We’ve gotta got, Gwaine.” She hung up and slipped her phone back in her purse. “He’s just glad to see you’re going out.”

“No, he’s waiting to make fun of me for all eternity for spending Friday night in a pub painting.”

“He might, but deep down he’ll love it because you’re enjoying it and that’s what matters.”

“’m not.”

Her indulgent smile was almost embarrassing. She put her hand at his back and leaned in for a strange sort-of half-hug. Her weight rested against his side, arm slung over his back, and he let her stay there even as it made it hard to paint. 

“Have you heard from her?” 

Arthur didn’t know what made him ask. Maybe it was the fact that he _was_ enjoying Paint Night, or maybe it was the calm that had settled in his chest as Elena pressed her cheek against his shoulder. Elena’s arm tensed against his back and for a few seconds he thought she wouldn’t answer.

“She skyped me three weeks ago.” Elena hesitated. “She’d just left Peru.”

Peru. 

The stupidest thing of all was that he couldn’t even go on a clichéd journey to find himself because she’d done it first. He couldn’t very well up and do the same, chasing her around the globe in search of answers about his past, his future, or whatever it was he was supposed to find out there. Instead he was stuck in London, doing the same things, walking the same streets.

“Is she having a good time?” 

“I think so. It was a short call. The connection at the hostel she was in was pretty bad.”

“And nothing since?”

“No.” Elena grimaced. 

In his own misery, it was easy to forget sometimes that Mithian was Elena’s best friend. He kissed the top of her head. She looked up at him in surprise, a small smile on her lips. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

“What do you have to be sorry for?” She pushed him in fake annoyance and turned back to her painting. “Things happen. Mithian makes her own choices. And, you know, whatever the consequences are for our friendship has nothing to do with you and everything to do with Mithian and I. And how the fuck have I only painted the buildings so far?” 

“Solid buildings, though. Real sturdy.”

“Oh, just you drink your beer and keep drawing your cats.”

Arthur was about to splatter paint all over her face when a confused voice said, “Cats?” and they both looked up to find their host with his hands up in a defensive gesture. “I know I said that there are no rules. Just curious about the sudden wildlife.”

“Well, Merlin. We’re living dangerously,” Elena said, grinning. “We’re thinking lions next. Tigers, even.”

“She’s delirious. Ignore her.”

“Someone else turned the booth into a tardis so I feel we’ve gone off the grid today already.” Merlin (whose name Arthur had completely forgotten) smiled crookedly. “Might as well add a circus.”

Elena decided to leave the circus be and instead asked Merlin why her buildings looked so strange compared to his. As Merlin launched into an explanation about the use of shadows, Arthur fell into the strange meditative calm of painting. His head hadn’t been this quiet in months. It was nice. 

He didn’t know how long it took as he kept painting Merlin’s scene, finally tackling the phone booth, but eventually Elena yelled, “Look!” and held up her painting. 

He looked at it with furrowed brows and lowered his own brush. 

“Is that a fucking cat inside the booth?”

Her smile was smug. 

“You’re the absolute worst,” he said, even if it was so far from true. 

*

It turned from summer to autumn before he went to another Paint Night. He didn’t tell Elena that he was going back, mostly because he didn’t want to explain that he missed the sense of calm it had given him. Entering the pub alone, he regretted not bringing her along. 

It was another Friday night and the tables by the bench along the wall had once again been arranged into one long table. At one end of it, a chattering group of friends sat. Others seemed to come in pairs. He was the only one that came alone. The old lady from last time was nowhere to be seen. An overwhelming urge to flee the scene took him and he turned to leave, only to run right into Merlin. 

“Hi!” Merlin beamed, clutching a box of supplies to his chest. “You’re back!” 

Arthur faltered, his brain coming to a grinding halt. He looked for excuses (“Oh, no, sorry, I was looking for the knitting club, actually”) but none came. Merlin’s shockingly blue eyes seemed to hold him in place even as he searched for an escape. 

“Yes,” he croaked. “I’m back.”

“Brilliant. We’re often kind of low on guys, so it’s nice to see some around.”

An awkward silence followed and mostly because Arthur didn’t know what to do with himself, he reached out and took the box out of Merlin’s hands. “I’ll, uh, help you.”

“Oh, thanks! Just put it on the table over there, I’ll run out and get the painting.”

Arthur dropped the box down next to other painting supplies and went up to the bar to buy himself a pint before he settled down at the opposite end of the table from the chattering friends. He got out his phone and thumbed mindlessly around on it as Merlin set up at the front, ignoring the tinder app Gwaine had downloaded despite its incessant notifications that 99+ people liked him and that he should return to find out who. 

Arthur watched Merlin closely as he got everyone’s attention and explained the concept to the newcomers: all would paint their version of his painting, and there were no rules. It was all in the name of fun. He gesticulated as he spoke, cheerful and friendly. He was wearing a pair of black skinny jeans and a plain t-shirt with a pair of sneakers. It seemed effortless, but it looked good on him. He had more of a stubble than he’d had the last time Arthur had seen him, and it suited him. It made him look a bit older, and Arthur wondered if he might have been a bit off when he’d assumed Merlin was around 22. 

The painting was a landscape this time. It seemed like it might be a scene from the west country somewhere. The water was bright blue and there was a small stone hut on the shores, the green hills vivid. Arthur studied it, unsure of where to start. He got the colours he’d received and found his brush. His canvas was uncomfortably white, daring him to make a mistake. 

“Maybe start with the shoreline,” Merlin said and Arthur almost jumped. Last he’d looked, Merlin had been at the other end of the table with the group of friends. “Could help you to figure out how to section up the space.”

Merlin sat down in the small space Arthur had left on the end of the bench. Their shoulders rubbed. 

“Your girlfriend couldn’t make it today?” 

“Who—oh, you mean Elena? She’s not my girlfriend.” He dipped his brush into the paint a couple of times. “We’ve just been friends forever.” 

“Oh, Sorry,” Merlin said. “I just assumed. Usually the guys we see get dragged here by their girlfriends.”

“You’re not exactly inspiring me to come back.”

Merlin laughed. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologising.”

“Sorry?” Merlin’s lips quirked. “I didn’t catch your name last time.”

“I’m Arthur.” He ran a line of blue paint along the canvas to mark the shoreline. “Originally dragged here by my friend. Not actually sure why I came back?”

“Please, keep stroking my ego.”

Arthur looked back at him, grimacing slightly, but found Merlin just looked amused. “It’s a great concept. It’s… fun. I’m back, aren’t I? On my own, even.”

“Yeah, you are. Didn’t expect you to be, I have to admit.”

“So, is this your job, then, or just a hobby?” 

“Just a bit of a side project,” Merlin said, leaning his elbow on the table as he watched Arthur paint. “I work a boring office job and I need this in my life to not die a miserable death.” 

“Do you do this on your own?”

“We’re three hosts, but I’m the only one who hosts at this pub. So, this is the place to be.”

Arthur smiled. “Clearly.” 

“Don’t even think about the other pubs. This is the only one that counts.”

“Do your colleagues know this is how you market their events?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re saying worse things about mine, those little shits.” Merlin shifted next to him. “I should check on the rest as well, see how they’re doing. I fully expect to hear more about you when I come back, though, so prepare yourself. Just prepare a short summary of the highlights of your life, that sort of thing.”

Giving him a look, Arthur snorted. “It’ll be a short summary.”

“Now, that I don’t believe.” 

Merlin’s hand grazed his thigh briefly as he stood and Arthur gripped his paintbrush too tight, trying not to look as Merlin walked to the other end of the table. He didn’t know whether Merlin’s brief touch had been accidental, or if the fact that he’d sat so close had meant something. 

Arthur pulled out his phone and almost typed out “I think Merlin is flirting with me” to send to Elena before thinking better of it. He focused back on the painting, trying not to touch the simmering panic in his gut. 

His version of the painting was taking shape when Merlin returned, reclaiming his seat at the end of the bench. Arthur hadn’t moved to give him more space, and didn’t know if he regretted that or not as the warmth of Merlin was back at his side. 

“This looks really good,” Merlin said, his head cocked to the side as he studied Arthur’s canvas. “I like what you’re doing with the waves.”

“It’s OK. I’ve no idea what I’m doing.”

“All for fun, remember? No one knows what they’re doing.” Merlin folded his hands on the table. “So. Highlights?” 

“You were serious about that?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Oh, God, well. Arthur Pendragon. Grew up with a rich, absent father and a sister who spent all her life rebelling against him. Started my own company with my sister because I’m a masochist.” Arthur looked at his wonky outline of the stone hut. “Never did much painting.”

“What kind of company?” 

“Furniture and interior. My sister does a lot of design.”

Merlin hummed. “So, is interior your dream or your sister’s?”

“More hers than mine. I like it, though. It’s better than what dad had planned for me, in any case.” Arthur looked at Merlin whose expression was open and attentive. “What’s your dream, then? Not a boring office job, I gather.”

“You know,” Merlin said and then paused. “I’ve never really been able to figure that out.”

Arthur gave a small smile. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“No. I suppose not.”

The night’s painting didn’t turn out as well as last time, but Arthur chalked it up to distraction.

*

Arthur had always looked too closely in the showers after football practice. At uni, he’d almost snogged his roommate’s best friend after a night out, but chickened out at the last second and avoided the guy for the rest of his academic career. When Gwaine occasionally hooked up with blokes in bars, he looked on with a hard on and a vague feeling of envy. He’d just never known how to act on the fact that he was into guys as well, and this brought him to an impossible situation when it came to Merlin.

Because Merlin was fit as fuck. His ass looked perfect in his jeans and his stubble did things to Arthur. His hands were appealing in a way Arthur couldn’t explain, and lips were impossible to avoid staring at. 

He’d been attracted to guys before, but it had been in such a hypothetical, distant way. He had vague fantasies at times, and he appreciated guys from afar, but there was never an actual feeling that it would come to anything. During the years with Mithian, he’d never even thought about it much. He’d been happy, for the most part, and that was that. 

Now he was single and the worst part was that he was relatively sure Merlin was flirting. 

Suddenly, everything had a very real possibility to it. _Several_ real possibilities that tied Arthur’s stomach into knots. The only thing he managed to do was to keep showing up at Paint Night. 

On the fifth Paint Night he attended by himself, Merlin had switched it up and the painting was a dragon. It took up most of the canvas, its wings splayed out as fire spilled out of its mouth. It was definitely a turn from the usual, and Arthur wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to pull it off. 

“What do you think?” Merlin asked as he sat down. “It’s not the usual landscapes, but I was in the mood for something different.”

“It’s very cool. I think mine might look a little less impressive when I’m done, though.”

“Every dragon is unique,” Merlin said. He leaned back against the wall, splaying his legs a little. His thigh touched Arthur’s. “Work’s been extra boring this week. I felt the need to escape into another world entirely.”

“I know the feeling. Morgana’s been talking about cushions all week.”

“You should make dragon cushions. I’d buy one.”

Arthur smiled. “Not really Morgana’s aesthetic, but I’ll fight for it.”

He tensed a little as Merlin’s thigh pressed closer to his, the warmth of it sending little jolts through Arthur’s stomach. He started painting in a random spot, not at all paying attention to what he was doing. 

“Hey, lighter touch,” Merlin said, and his hand closed over Arthur’s around the brush. Arthur’s heart jumped up into his throat and he couldn’t hear what Merlin said over the buzzing in his ears. All he could focus on was Merlin’s hand over his, warm and steady. 

“Thanks,” he said, mouth dry. 

Merlin’s eyes crinkled into a smile and he got up, giving Arthur a lingering look before he went to check on the others. 

Arthur let out a shaky breath and wiped his palms on his jeans, cheeks hot. Fucking hell. He no longer cared about hiding the fact that he’d gone back to Paint Night. His hand shook slightly as he grabbed his phone out of his pocket and found Elena in his messages. 

_help_

_what?_

_Merlin’s flirting with me_

He stared at his phone for a few seconds before the reply came in.

_!!!!!!_

_you went back!!!_

_Also!!! HE’S FLIRTING WITH YOU!!_

_WHAT DO YOU WANT? DO YOU WANT TO FLIRT BACK? YOU SHOULD FLIRT BACK._

_ARTHUR HE’S FIT._

_DO YOU LIKE HIM?_

_GWAINE SAYS YOU NEED TO RIDE THAT DICK INTO THE SUNSET._

Jesus Christ. Arthur slammed his phone down on the table. He hadn’t really told his friends that he was into guys in so many words, but apparently, he didn’t have to. 

When he dared to look at his phone again he had another ten messages from Elena, but also one from Morgana.

_Head’s up. Mithian’s back in England._

Arthur didn’t know what he’d expected to feel, but he did know he’d expected to feel something. Anything. Instead, there was nothing.

_Does Elena know?_

_Don’t think so. I found out by accident._

_Thank you_

Just as he put his phone down, Merlin was walking up to his side of the table. “Hey, what’s up? You’ve been on your phone half the evening, is everything OK?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. Just. Stuff.” He waved his hand. “My dragon isn’t making much progress.”

“He’ll probably forgive you. Even if he’s missing an arm and a leg.”

“So he’s a nice dragon?”

“The nicest.” Merlin sat down, eyes locked on Arthur. “Want to talk about your stuff?” 

Arthur looked at his painting for a moment, suspended in indecision. 

“The first time I came here with Elena, I’d just gotten divorced. Or, well, it had been a month or two. So Elena just tried to get me out of the house, I think. My ex-wife went to travel the world. To find herself, or get away from me, or whatever it is her mission was.” Arthur shrugged. “She’s Elena’s best friend, too, so it’s all kind of complicated. My sister just texted me that she’s back in England. Just wanted to warn me.”

“Oh, wow.” Merlin seemed to be looking for words. “How do you feel? Or like, are you OK?”

“No, it’s fine. I don’t really care, actually. That she’s back.”

“Maybe the dragon will help. He needs another leg,” Merlin said. 

Merlin’s attention remained on the painting until he left to help someone else, and it felt weird. A sudden distance had opened between them and Arthur regretted bringing up Mithian. He was an idiot. Who talked to their potential, new somethings about their ex-wife? Arthur rested his head against his hand as he tried to finish his dragon.

The end result was sloppy, but he didn’t really care. He tidied up his supplies and, out of habit, he did it slower than everyone else so he’d be the last to bring his up to Merlin. Arthur stood awkwardly by the supplies table, unsure whether to hang out or leave as Merlin talked with one of the others. It seemed so stupid to hang around like a needy puppy when Merlin was occupied elsewhere. 

He moved to leave, but was stopped by Merlin’s hand. “Arthur, can I talk to you for a moment?” He turned back to the girl he’d been talking to. “Nice to see you again, Carrie, I hope you guys enjoyed yourself!”

When she left, Arthur felt the awkwardness descend over them. He hated it. 

“I just want to apologise,” Merlin said, making a pained face. “I didn’t mean to assume things. I think… Well, I thought things were kind of mutual so I’ve been kind of full on. I didn’t realise you were straight, I’m sorry.”

Arthur felt hot and cold at the same time. Parts of him bristled, as other parts of him were relieved. “You’re still assuming things.”

Merlin looked stricken. 

An awkward silence settled between them as Arthur stuck his hands into his pockets, gaze flickering around the room. He took a deep breath. 

“People can be other things than straight or gay.”

Hiding his face in his hands, Merlin groaned. “Oh, bollocks, I’m making such a mess of this.” 

Arthur laughed, surprising both himself and Merlin, who looked up with wide eyes. “Not any more than I am. I’ve been making a fool of myself trying to flirt back this entire time.”

“No, you haven’t.” Merlin smiled. 

“Look, I’m not… I’ve been married for like five years and before that I only dated girls, because I’ve never really known how to do this.” Arthur shrugged. “I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“That’s OK.” Merlin hesitated. “Do you want to join me for a coffee tomorrow?” 

“Sure. Yeah.”

“Meet me here at four?” 

They smiled at each other when Arthur nodded. He went home, spending half the night unable to sleep. 

*

“You don’t know what a rollercoaster you’ve put me on, Arthur.”

“What on earth did I do now?” 

Merlin took a careful sip of his coffee, fresh from the coffee shop they’d just left. He was huddled up in a thick winter jacket and a red scarf. It was a freezing December afternoon in London, and the streets were all decked out in Christmas decorations. The lights lit up their walk as they headed up the road. 

“What _didn’t_ you do? First you show up looking hot with a girlfriend—I know she’s not, relax—and then you don’t show up for weeks. But there you are again, alone, girlfriendless, and like, flirting back, and then suddenly you’re straight—and I know you’re not straight, too, ok, but it’s been traumatic for me, Arthur.”

Arthur held back a snort. “I can tell.”

“Please just tell me, do you have kids?”

“No.”

“Does it make me look bad if I’m relieved?”

“I lied. I have two kids.”

Merlin stopped walking, eyes wide. “Arthur—”

Arthur started laughing at the panic in his voice. “I don’t have kids, idiot.”

“I fucking hate you.” Merlin hit him hard on the shoulder. “You’re the _worst_.”

Hiding his smug smile behind his coffee, Arthur continued walking with no particular direction in mind. They wandered, following crowds of people into more Christmas-lit streets. Merlin talked about his childhood in Wales, and his mum who still lived there, about being the only gay kid in the village before he moved to London to work. It felt like being at Paint Night, except he didn’t have to share Merlin with anyone else. 

“Oh, let’s go to Winter Wonderland,” Merlin said when they ended up near Hyde Park, and more or less dragged Arthur towards the entrance. 

His hands were cold. He'd forgotten his gloves and while the coffee had done the trick for a while, he was left with sticking his hands in his pockets. But he didn’t want the night to end, so he went into Winter Wonderland without a second thought.

The park was busy, and Arthur did all he could to follow Merlin. They kept losing each other in the crowds as they headed towards some of the market stalls, and eventually, Merlin held out his hand. Arthur took it, ears buzzing, and let go in shock almost immediately when Merlin exclaimed, “Jesus Christ, you’re freezing!” Merlin pulled them away from the worst of the crowds. He took Arthur’s hands between his. Arthur didn’t point out that Merlin had a pair of gloves in his pockets that he’d just taken off because he’d been too warm. 

They smiled at each other. 

“I promised myself I’d go slow,” Merlin said, his thumb brushing over Arthur’s knuckles. “Just grab a coffee, and talk, and not do anything else that’d scare you away.”

Arthur swallowed. “Maybe you could try. To do something else.”

Merlin’s nose was cold against his cheek when their lips met in a soft kiss that lingered for only a moment. It left Arthur’s mouth tingling. 

“See, still here,” he said.

“Must be an early December miracle.” Merlin smiled. “Come on, let’s see if we can find you some gloves at one of the stalls, or something.”

*

Elena picked up a slice of pizza and took a bite of the tip. “I can’t believe you never told me you went back. I feel deeply betrayed.”

Arthur returned to his kitchen table with two bottles of beer. “Couldn’t give you the satisfaction, could I?”

“Yes, you could! That’s exactly what I want and, frankly, deserved,” she said. “So, you went on a sickeningly adorable coffee-date.”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t, what? Since you didn’t even tell me this was happening, I think I deserve so many details right now.”

“I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

“Of course you do. You’ve dated other people. You’ve been married.” 

“To women.” 

“Sure,” Elena said. “And I’m sure it’s a little different, but the basics are the same, aren’t they? You like them, they like you, hooking up is fun.” 

Arthur hummed. 

“I’m sure Gwaine will help you with the specifics.” 

Dropping his head onto the table, Arthur groaned. “I’m not going to ask Gwaine how to have sex with a guy.”

“Whoa.” Elena held up her hand. “So we’ve gotten that far?” 

“Maybe? I don’t know. We’ve just… hung out… once, but I feel like that’s where it’s going. That I want to.”

“You’ve hung out more than once. There have been many paint-related almost-dates.”

Arthur took a slice of pizza and ate in silence. He’d been texting Merlin ever since their coffee-date five days ago, and he felt like another date (or whatever it was) wouldn’t be too far off. He hadn’t even decided if he should go to Paint Night on Friday, because he figured he’d just be frustrated that he’d have to share Merlin with the rest of the group. 

“If you want to do the deed with Merlin, maybe you should talk to him about it. Communication is key, my friend.” 

Arthur made a face. “Isn’t it rather unsexy to preface everything with how inexperienced you are? Especially when you’re nearing thirty.”

“Better than fumbling around pretending you’re an expert, isn’t it?”

“You’re probably right. I feel like I did my time as an awkward teenager when I was an actual teenager, though.”

“Arthur, sweetie.” Elena reached out and patted his hand. “People introduce new things to their sex lives all the time. And when we do that, we’re all some amount of inexperienced and have to communicate to our partner that this is new to us.”

Sighing, Arthur gave her a long look. “Why are you always right?”

“It’s a gift.”

*

Arthur was very glad he’d decided to go to Paint Night when he came in and noticed Gwaine and Elena sitting at his usual end of the table, huddled together watching Merlin set up. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Arthur said. 

They looked up at him, schooling their expressions into complete innocence. 

“Arthur!” Elena beamed. “I didn’t think you’d come today!”

“I’m so sorry about this,” Arthur said to Merlin, who turned in confusion, a paint tube in each hand. 

“About what?” 

“These two idiots.” 

“Hey, we’ve been on our best behaviour,” Gwaine said. “I’m just here to paint. No ulterior motives.”

Merlin just shrugged as Arthur looked at him. “They’ve been nice so far.”

Arthur slung his coat aside on a nearby chair and went to help Merlin unpack his supplies. Something had unwound in him when he realised Elena and Gwaine weren’t giving Merlin a hard time. After all, this thing with Merlin was new, and he didn’t want his friends to scare him off before they had a chance to figure things out. 

“Hey,” Merlin said with a private smile when their backs were turned to Elena and Gwaine. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Hey.” He bumped Merlin’s shoulder. “I really am sorry about those two, I didn’t know they’d be here. They’re definitely not here to paint.”

“I can handle it.” 

Merlin put his painting up on the easel. It was a wintery landscape today, all whites and greys and blacks with pops of red.

“It’s really nice.” 

“Thanks. I felt festive this week,” Merlin said, moving close so no one could hear what they were talking about. “Hey. Want to come to mine tomorrow? I’ll cook dinner.” 

Surges of fear and happiness spiked in Arthur’s chest. He smiled, not able to keep it in. “Yeah.”

Merlin nudged him towards Elena and Gwaine, whose expressions were gleeful to a point that was frightening. Arthur made them scoot over on the bench to give him room, ignoring their attempts to waggle their eyebrows at him. 

“I forgot how cute he is,” Elena said, leaning her chin on her hand. “ _Super_ cute.”

Gwaine leered in Merlin’s direction. “You should be glad you found him first.”

“Why don’t you shut up, Gwaine?”

“Is he going to be this crabby all night? I came here to have a good time.”

Elena laughed. “I thought we came here to spy.”

“Yes, well, obviously, but I was trying to keep that quiet. Unlike someone else.”

“I think I got that before she said it,” Arthur said, giving them both a look. 

“Can you blame us?” Elena stopped speaking as Merlin called for their attention. Arthur supposed he couldn’t blame them for the curiosity. He might’ve even done the same. And as he watched Merlin welcome them all to another Paint Night, a warm feeling settled in him. Arthur smiled at him, a bit embarrassed about how stupidly light he felt.

When Merlin told them to start paint, Gwaine went rogue immediately. 

“It’s a portal to hell,” he explained, leaning back to admire his work. 

“Snazzy,” Elena said and made a face at Arthur over Gwaine’s head. 

Merlin laughed when he saw Gwaine’s painting. “I like where you’re taking it. It’s very unique.”

“See, Merlin appreciates me.”

“Stop appreciating him. It’s not good for his ego,” Arthur said without looking up from what he was doing. 

“Be nice to your friends.” Merlin placed a hand on his back. 

“They started it.”

“We did no such thing,” Elena said. “We’re just here to get to know Merlin. Is that a crime?”

Arthur rolled his eyes and ignored them as they started quizzing Merlin on his life, his family, and at one mortifying point: his “intentions” with Arthur. Thankfully, Merlin knew what was good for him and made his escape, throwing Arthur a smile before he took off. 

“Are you two happy now?”

“Never been happier,” Elena said at the same time as Gwaine said, “Over the moon.”

Arthur rolled his eyes again, but couldn’t hide his smile even as he pretended to focus on his painting. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Elena’s phone lit up. She gave it a quick glance, made a face, and turned it over, the screen facing down. 

Putting his brush down, he leaned in to look at the progress of her painting. She kept working, biting at her bottom lip in concentration. 

“Have you heard from Mithian?” he asked. 

She shook her head. “No. Not for weeks.”

He exchanged a look with Gwaine. “I’ll get the next round.”

At the bar, he got his phone out of his pocket and for the first time in months, he found his thread of texts to Mithian. He’d never deleted any, so there were still texts about picking up dinner, and a “I’ll be home in five.” It felt like looking into a portal to another life—some parallel universe where he was still with her. 

_Hey, Mithian. I heard rumours that you’re back in England. Hope you’ve had some good trips and that you found what you wanted. You should really talk to Elena. She misses you a lot. – A_

It was awkward, and he didn’t know how Mithian would take it, but he didn’t have the energy to care that much anymore. He just wanted Elena to have her best friend back, in whatever way that might be. 

*

The face in the mirror looked like it belonged to someone else for a disorienting moment. Arthur’s hair was tousled from Merlin’s hands running through it and his lips swollen from kissing. And here he was, a coward, running from his own insecurities. He dragged a hand over his face, and then tried splashing some water on it because people always did it on TV but it never really did anything for him except make him wet. 

“Arthur?” 

Arthur’s hands tightened around the edge of the sink. Shit, why on earth was he such a spineless coward? 

“Are you OK?”

“Yeah,” Arthur croaked. “Sorry. I’ll be right out.”

Elena was right. She was always right. People communicated all the time, people tried new things all the time, some people started later than others. It wasn’t the end of the world. 

He turned away from the mirror and left the bathroom. Merlin sat on the armrest of the sofa, nibbling on his thumb, a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Hi,” Arthur said.

Merlin looked up. He didn’t seem to know what to do, so Arthur sat down on the sofa next to him and gnawed at his own lip before saying, “I’m sorry.”

Turning to peer at him, Merlin raised his eyebrows. “What are you apologising for?” 

“Running off.”

“You’re allowed to take a break, if you want. That’s completely fine with me. I was just worried… that I did something wrong, I guess?”

“I’m just…” Arthur waved his arm, looking for words. “I’m just messing myself up because I don’t quite know what I’m doing. Not like other people you’ve probably been with—”

“Arthur. First of all, are you calling me easy?” When Arthur huffed a laugh, Merlin looked pleased with himself. “I know you haven’t really been with guys before. We don’t have to do anything, or we can do whatever you want, however you want it. Well, I do have _some_ limits, so you know. Within reason.”

Hiding his face in his hands, Arthur laughed briefly before it turned into a groan.

Merlin’s hand was warm against his shoulder. “Do you even know how frantic I’d be right now if you were a girl? I’d be losing my mind, probably.”

“Not exactly comparable, considering you’re gay.”

“Semantics.”

“Idiot,” Arthur said and smiled, running his hand over Merlin’s thigh. “I want to, though. Do… something.”

Merlin slid off the armrest and into Arthur’s lap, wrapping his arm around Arthur’s shoulders in the process. He leaned in and whispered, “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know.” Arthur was glad Merlin’s cheek was pressed to his, unable to see his face. He wanted to suck Merlin off, make him come so hard he couldn’t move. He wanted his cock in Merlin’s mouth, hands wrapped in his hair. He wanted to fuck Merlin over the armrest of the sofa. He wanted Merlin to fuck him. But right now, he couldn’t even wrap his head around any of that. 

Pressing a light kiss to Arthur’s cheek, Merlin hummed. “What if I choose, and you can tell me if it’s what you want?”

“Yeah,” Arthur said. His pulse was racing, the relief of not having to vocalise all his confusion making him sink back into the cushions. 

Merlin pulled back, meeting Arthur’s gaze with a small smile, and shifted to straddle him. He sucked on his bottom lip, hands pressed to Arthur’s stomach. When he noticed Arthur staring, he grinned and moved his hands slowly upwards, over Arthur’s chest until he was cupping his face. Their lips met in an open-mouthed kiss, Merlin’s hands hot on his skin. Moaning, Arthur pressed his hands to Merlin’s thighs, tightening his grip as the kiss turned messy and more desperate.

Without breaking the kiss, Merlin struggled with the button on Arthur’s jeans, finally popping it open. He pulled the zipper down and pressed his palm against Arthur’s half-hard cock through his boxers. 

“Is this OK?” he asked, lips still brushing Arthur’s. 

“Yeah,” Arthur croaked. It was so OK. Much, much more than OK. 

He sucked in a breath when Merlin pulled his boxers down and wrapped his fingers around the base of Arthur’s cock. Transfixed, he watched Merlin’s hand moving slowly along the shaft until only the head was visible. Then, suddenly, Merlin let go and a groan of disappointment died in his throat when Merlin licked across his palm, looking Arthur straight in the eye. His cock hardened. 

Merlin put his hand back on Arthur, the slide better this time as he began jerking him off at a steady rhythm. With a hand at the back of Merlin’s head, Arthur hauled him into a kiss that caught Merlin off guard. He laughed into Arthur’s mouth before kissing back, slowing it down, softening the frantic edge to it. It was sensuous and unhurried, like Merlin just wanted to savour the taste. 

It was a contrast to the steadily building rhythm of his hand, and Arthur’s breath stuttered into the kiss, his hips hitching up into Merlin’s grip. With one, slow press of his mouth, Merlin pulled away. He took Arthur’s hand from his thigh and guided it to the button of his jeans, making Arthur’s heart beat loudly in his ears. 

The button was cold under his thumb and his hand shook as he fumbled with it, fingers brushing the bulge underneath. After an embarrassing amount of time, he managed to open the jeans and slip his hand below the lining of Merlin’s boxers. Wrapping a hand around a dick from this angle was unfamiliar. He bit his lip, trying to get used to the grip. The weight of it was nice, and the way Merlin looked at him through half-lidded eyes was even better. 

Merlin’s grasp around his own cock loosened as Arthur jerkily tried to find a rhythm. It was difficult, with Merlin straddling him, and panic cut through his own arousal. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he babbled, pulling his hand out of Merlin’s boxers. His cheeks burned. 

Merlin’s brows furrowed. “Hey. What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t… I’m sorry, that wasn’t very good.”

“How do you know?”

Arthur didn’t know what to answer, just looked at Merlin, feeling sheepish. 

“Love your hand on me,” Merlin said, voice low. “But here, let’s—”

Instead of finishing the sentence, he pushed closer, wrapping his own hand over them both at the same time. Arthur groaned at the feeling of Merlin’s cock against his. He dug his hands into Merlin’s thighs as Merlin jerked them both. Muscles twitched in his stomach, and he couldn’t stop himself from moving to feel the drag of their cocks together. 

Merlin’s cheeks were red and his lips parted over a laboured breath. He held Arthur’s gaze, feverish, and Arthur watched his eyes lose focus as he went slack-jawed. He was unbelievably hot. All of Arthur’s insecurities disappeared in a fog of arousal and he reached out and closed his hand over Merlin’s. Merlin groaned his name, grip loosening in surprise. Arthur took control. 

He set up a fast rhythm, watching Merlin’s reactions play out over his face. Merlin grabbed the sofa cushion on either side of Arthur’s head, using the leverage to push up into Arthur’s hand. Arthur’s breath shuddered as he leaned up to catch Merlin’s mouth. The sloppy kiss put him over the edge and with a surprised groan, he came, spilling over them both. He lost track of his surroundings for a moment, losing himself to the feeling crashing through him. 

When he came back to the moment, Merlin was watching him intently. Arthur smiled at him and stole a brief kiss before he gripped Merlin’s cock. A confidence he’d forgotten was in him fuelled him forwards as Merlin came apart under his hand. He was gorgeous as he came, kiss-swollen lips open on a silent moan. 

When Merlin slid off his lap, smiling, and leaned against Arthur’s side, Arthur put his arm around Merlin’s shoulder. He sank back into the cushions, pliant and relaxed. 

“Stop being smug,” Merlin said, turning his face into Arthur’s chest. “I can feel it radiating out of you.”

“I think I’m well within my rights.”

“Oh god. Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”

“Absolutely. You should’ve done your research before you got into this.”

Merlin sighed and stood up, pulling Arthur along as he headed for the bathroom. Arthur watched as Merlin turned the shower on and began stripping his clothes off, item by item. A low hum settled in his stomach, leaving him completely unable to stop smiling. 

Stepping forwards, Merlin pulled Arthur’s t-shirt over his head. He watched as Arthur stepped out of his jeans and boxers. “Are you going to be equally smug when I teach you how to give great blowjobs?” 

“Even more,” Arthur promised.

Merlin laughed and pushed Arthur into the shower.


End file.
